Tuesday, October 2, 2012

A Lesson from My First Year of Practice: A dishonest client is not necessarily an undeserving client


by Lindsey Siegel, AVLF Staff Attorney and Skadden Fellow

A few months ago, a client lied to me when she was on the verge of losing her housing.  Luckily, she admitted the truth relatively early in my representation of her, and we were able to explain her actions honestly and still prevent her from becoming homeless.  Though the vast majority of my clients are honest, in the past year I have had more than one client be less than honest or fail to give me key information during an interview.  When I discovered the dishonesty, my first reaction was to question everything she’d told me and, occasionally, to lose enthusiasm in representing her.  Since then, I’ve thought about why it can feel so disappointing when my clients lie, how it impacts my work, and why clients are sometimes dishonest in the first place.

Because at my core I believe in the righteousness of the work we do at AVLF, I can get fairly emotionally involved in my clients’ cases.  When I encounter a client who has lied, it is hard to shake that initial feeling of betrayal.  It can also be difficult to represent someone when a harmful fact arises for the first time in the middle of a hearing.  In fact, I can attribute at least one negative case outcome to this scenario, even though my client had a genuine need for assistance.  Despite lies or omissions, I continue to be concerned about my clients’ abilities to maintain stable housing and employment, secure government benefits, and most importantly, obtain physical safety.  Like many poverty lawyers, I sometimes obsess about the significant effect losing one of these cases has on my clients’ and their families’ lives.

It is also difficult to navigate the various ethical issues that arise when representing a client who has been dishonest about some fact, especially when that fact is central to our case.  If I come to believe prior to a hearing that a client has lied to me, I worry about proffering false testimony.  Of course, if I insist that the client admit the truth under oath, we may lose the case.  Withdrawing from the case is another option, though it is unappealing to leave a client unrepresented (as they almost always will remain) when the stakes are so high.  Though I memorized the rules of professional conduct in preparation for my practice of law, implementing them with real clients who need assistance has been much more challenging than I would have guessed it would be.

At AVLF, the vast majority of our clients have very few resources, despite working or looking for work to support their families.  Often their basic needs—safety, housing, food—are not being met, and they are doing what they can for their and their children’s survival.  I have learned that sometimes a client is going to say what she thinks we want to hear in order to obtain assistance.  Other clients believe we will judge them if they admit to making certain decisions; and past experiences with government or social service agencies may have taught them this lesson.  My clients’ past experiences and economic realities have influenced my impression of their occasional dishonesty.

Practicing this type of law involves recognizing that even our clients who have experienced abuse and injustice aren’t perfect, just as we are not perfect in our representation of them.  The best we can do is try to discover the truth, recognize the potential complications in our representation, and understand the barriers our clients face.  And if we imagine stepping into their shoes, we may wonder what we would do in a similarly desperate situation.

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